One Night Stand
by michael1812
Summary: Post-Kansas. Just a bit of fun. Chiana's only one night in town and she's going to make the most of it.
1. One Night Stand

She liked sipping straws with lots of colour. He liked big gulps of poison. They were a match made in heaven.

A disappointing night didn't stop her from trying to rekindle _-something_. But she was tired of dancing, but insatiable. Anyone else wouldn't take offense to the bunch of losers hanging over their drinks at the bar, but on a night like this -the only night they were going to be in town- Chiana thought something had to change in this shady bar.

Her touch was laden with poison, seduction and manipulation. Her lipstick a tease of passion and her smile meant you were never going to get it. A tear meant run. She wasn't going to give any second chances.

She had decided that if there wasn't going to be any fun, she was going to make it fun. And the muscle at the bar saw her coming.

"Your shipmates have left." he told her with a grumble in his voice that didn't take kindly to trouble. The fading party lights reflected off his armadillo skin.

With a finger she tickled his sagging neck flap like a cat playing with a ball of string.

"You-s don't have to worry about-s me." she said. Catching her own drunken voice she cleared her throat and settled down. Grabbed the ledge of the bar just to be safe. Without anyone looking of course.

"One more drink and then I'll kick you out." the armadillo boss said and his eyes turned in their sockets to become red with perfect night vision. Chiana had no idea what kind of species he was.

When the bartender put the drink down in front of her she was determined not to touch it for the rest of the night. That way she could stay all night. Rules are rules, right?

"Are you going to finish that drink?" the platinum-haired Sebacean with the pale cheekbones at the bar asked her in his own particular accent. He was leaning lazily over the bar toward her with a cigarette hanging sadly from the corner of his lips.

She could barely hear him over the loud music, but she caught his deep eyes. Except they weren't that deep. He was waiting.

"I'm not gonna."

He curled his cheek into sort of a smile. Not impressed, merely amused.

He had a leather coat draped over his stool which he usually wore over his red collared shirt. He lit the cigarette with a lighter and put it back in his leather pants. The cigarette burned and smoke escaped his mouth just before he pushed himself away from the bar and walked over toward the oversized Sheyang with the raslak dripping from his eyes.

She watched him, but all he did was grab her drink and chuck it down his throat in one full gulp, then wipe his mouth on his sleeve. It wouldn't have surprised Chiana if he added a loud burp, but he did pound his chest after he put the glass down.

"The night sure didn't last long." Chiana said to herself.

"It never does, sugar." the man said, satisfied with tragedy. Then he burped and his eyes turned glazed. "I'm off."

She expected a little bit more than that. Somehow she got hooked. Just a twist of his skinny wrist and his drunken lips fell on hers quite by accident in a drunken slip of his shoe. But there's never any accidents with Chiana.

She could feel the button of his cuff press against the palm of her hand. Letting go felt less disorientating than it did before.

"Wanna have some fun?" she asked him.

A single kiss had turned him into a bumbling fool. He put his hand to his lips and found a drop of blood on his index finger. In a split second of panic and instinct he'd turned and pressing their lips together had pressed his fang against the inside of his lip and drawn blood.

He liked it. He licked the drop of blood off his lips.

_"All the fun in the world, sugar."_

He grabbed his coat. Chiana'd always been a sucker for a man wearing leather.


	2. Platinum, Baby

They dug their hands down into the layers of black leather to feel their way across pale soft skin. Lips wrangled lips in the back passage. Just a bite of fun.

His amusement made her giggle. Alleys were their natural habitat, midnight their favourite hour.

They tested each other in the moonlight, the hunter and the hunted, their roles overlapping with every mortal kiss.

For the briefest moment he let a sentence roll from his lips, a breath of death to seal his fate:

"I never did get your name, love." the hopeless romantic said, and Chiana only laughed. The silence wore on and would eventually burn inside him, an unanswered question, an unfinished thought. The mystery only made him want her more and she knew that. She wanted it that way.

Answers only spoilt it. The moment that never was supposed to last.

Smoke billowed out into the street through an open door. The furnace of a kitchen burned like their desire, and Chiana leaped into it. Her Nebari skin started sweating. She liked the touch of the hot air around her.

Pheromones filled the air and his vampire senses smelled it. She wanted him.

She stretched her arms into the air, a voluptuous dance that beckoned him closer. This time she let him make the move. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close and when he moved his lips close she moved away, smiling. She was winning this game.

He grabbed her belt. "I know a place."

She brushed her gloved hand through his platinum blonde hair. "Show me."

The drunkenness faded with every step. She stole drinks from passing drunks and followed the vampire's example and drank it with a single gulp, to throw the bottle to pieces in the when anybody acted up Spike knocked them down with a single punch.

Every drop of raslak was more fuel to the fire that raged within her, but she controlled the chaos. She let it burn.

The locals celebrated the end of the day with torches and fire, forming a circle in the town square. She stole one for the chance to spit fire. He kept his distance that time.

"What's wrong? You don't like fire?" Chiana asked.

"Fire and I aren't exactly compatible." the vampire spoke, digging his hands deep into his coat pockets. Chiana saw the scar on his eyebrow and couldn't resist touching it. He flinched.

"What are you doing?" he said and she kissed him, rekindling his fire with a firm hand to his crotch, just to make the message clear. The taste of alcohol lingered on his lips afterwards.

He stumbled after her, following her grey manes through the fiery crowd. He could already picture her lying atop his crypt, all his for the taking.

But this one could be more dangerous than she let on. He had to be sure.

"Aren't we going this way?" she asked him.

"No." he said and looked into her eyes. He was wise enough to know you couldn't trust anyone in this world. Nothing is free. But there was something about her so innocent and pure he couldn't fathom being evil. Not like him.

There were days he wouldn't have hesitated taking a bite from this lovely, little lamb.

"I've got a better idea -GET THAT THING OUT OF MY FACE!"

One of the natives swung his burning torch just a little bit too close to Spike's face during his celebration dance and Spike took it and threw it across the square.

It landed just a little bit too close to a farmer's pile of hay. A corner of a house caught fire and the dancers rushed to put it out.

"What are you doing!" Chiana yelled.

"I don't like fire! I told you! Ow!"

Chiana took his hand and lead him as far away from the square she could until they were alone again. Too much chaos was a bad thing._ Too much control..._

An empty office building chiseled out of black marble felt the perfect decor for the night. The strobe lighting hurt their eyes, but there didn't seem to be anyone present.

Chiana slid her whole body's length across the empty receptionist's desk. Tedious day making room for dangerous night. Spike pressed the elevator button.

Through bulletproof glass they finally looked out upon the city that stretched before them in the dark. Tiny little lights that went on until the horizon, fires burning below, and on the other side oft the world they saw the darkness of the dense forests leading all the way into river country. But it was never about the view.

They finally had their moment. Seven times.

A poor man's office had now been purposely desecrated and partly demolished with flesh and carnal touch...and who's going to pay for that broken down door?

In the moments where they stopped for breath she found herself drawn to the light of the moon.

She dared to approach the glass wall with no clothes to separate her from the night. She measured every breath and every shake of her body standing in the open. The cold gave her shivers.

Her instincts were screaming at her to move away from the glass, so that's why she stayed.

Then he silently moved next to her in the pale light of the moon where both their bodies seemed to light up into pure white. No layers separating them anymore. And somehow he understood. She didn't know how, she didn't know why and at the same time she knew that she would never find out. They would never meet again.

White upon white skin and hearts touched flesh, the past and future were no longer separated by death. They joked and laughed each other to sleep underneath the vampire's warm leather longcoat and she forgot how she had planned to leave early, before he'd ever woken up.

He watched her go to sleep and when the first rays of dawn touched the office building's features it seemed the tables had been turned and Spike had cleared. He'd covered her up with some curtains on his way out. He liked the flower pattern on this one.

He'd left her, but had forgotten his pack of cigarettes, though. They were still lying on the floor by the desk where they had fallen out of his pocket. She took them as a souvenir.

All that was left was the disquiet, the unanswered question, the unfinished thought. The missing goodbye. She didn't even know his name.

But it was supposed to be like this, she told herself, wasn't it? Wasn't this exactly what she wanted? Just a bit of fun, no questions asked?

Every moment had to end. Chiana hated it.

Spike watched her from the shadows as she left the building, searching his pockets for his cigarettes.

When he saw her, he thought of calling out to her. But that would've only spoilt it.

He turned around and walked away. He knew what this had been.

But he just couldn't help himself looking over his shoulder at her one last time before she'd disappeared from his view entirely.

He'd probably never stop wondering what'd become of that girl from that night, that moment, that connection they shared in the briefest of instances.

"Sod her," he said swaggering on. Then he opened a sewer hatch and climbed down. Finally the hatch swung shut. He was gone.


End file.
